Ozymandias
by ChocolateTeapot
Summary: Ramesses considers himself to be the greatest ruler ever. However, the discovery of an ancient ruin might force him to reassess. Oneshot.


This story was inspired by the poem "Ozymandias" by Percy Shelley and is based on Civ 5, although it contains a heavy Civ 4 reference. Also, considering that the real Ramesses II ruled successfully for a fairly long time, he can't have been quite such a self-absorbed prat as he is portrayed here.

* * *

Ramesses' throne stood on a dais overlooking the palace courtyard. He sat there every day, vigilantly watching the affairs of his kingdom. In practice, this meant that he spent a lot of time directing his powerful gaze at the opposite wall. At least it was a very handsome wall.

In idle moments like this he usually contemplated how hard the golden throne was on his royal backside. But once that topic was exhausted, he moved on to wishing that the heart of his empire, admittedly its only city, wasn't called Thebes. He had built a wonderful temple complex there, but for Ptah's sake, it was the capital of the previous dynasty! He had abandoned it in favour of a new city, one that would tell the world of his greatness. His previous subjects had been fine with calling it Pi-Ramesses Aa-nakhtu, so why did the current bunch of idiots refuse, insisting it was too pretentious? There was nothing pretentious about it, it was just an accurate description. Perhaps he would move his capital to some other city later, once he'd built a second one, but he had the sinking feeling that he would not be able to.

The only consolation was that this city wasn't nearly grand enough to deserve his name. His palace was by far the finest building and just about acceptable, although not nearly as nice as the last one. The problem was that every other building was an eyesore. Mud huts were fitting for peasants, but he didn't want to have to look at them every time he stepped out of his palace. His order that the most unsightly ones be demolished came to nothing, as the majority of his army lived in precisely those huts. If he wanted to avoid seeing them, he'd just have to stay on his throne.

He was under the impression that he would be there for a very long time. His reign had already lasted two surprisingly uneventful centuries. This was four times as long his previous rule and far longer than humans could live, although several of his followers were displaying similar longevity. Perhaps even all of them, but he didn't know as he couldn't tell the peasants apart.

An even more compelling argument for his immortality was something that happened at the start of his reign. Moments before he found himself standing in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by smelly commoners, Osiris himself had appeared to him and told him that it was his duty to build a civilization that would stand the test of time. This caused Ramesses to suspect that he might be in Aaru, although he had hoped that his subjects would be a bit more competent in his afterlife. Perhaps this was actually the trials of Duat.

If it was the former, hopefully this meant that he wouldn't die again, as the construction of his tomb was proceeding far slower than he would have liked. Additionally, he hated the idea of this bunch being charge of his dead body. He wished that he had asked Osiris about whether you could actually die in the afterlife, and if so, if you needed your body to move on to the after-afterlife. Osiris would have known but Ramesses forgot. He not yet decided who to blame for that brief lapse of memory. If only the Book of the Dead offered practical advice on this sort of thing. But it didn't, so it was better to be safe than sorry and get that tomb built. Even if it turned out that he didn't need it, it ought to inspire awe. If nothing else, he could always use it to stash away his treasure.

As for leading this lot to greatness, Osiris had definitely shown his wisdom in appointing Ramesses for the job. No one else could hope to lead them to anything but disaster! If this was Duat, he considered appealing to the judges of the Underworld, as this was unfairly difficult. At least nobody had done anything particularly stupid today, but there still were many hours until sundown.

Just then, the foreign advisor appeared, hurrying towards him. Ramesses sighed audibly. He didn't want to talk to her. In fact, he couldn't even remember appointing her, or any of the other three for that matter. He was far too intelligent to need advisers. Unfortunately, those four definitely seemed to be among those blessed with immortality. His sneer of cold command failed to send her scurrying in the opposite direction, so it was probably simplest to pretend to listen and hope she would go away.

The foreign advisor, he couldn't remember her name and didn't care either, was out of breath when she started speaking. "Our warriors have discovered incredible artefacts that may advance our civilization in an ancient ruin."

Ramesses yawned. Her disrespectful tone annoyed him. In his previous reign he would have had her put to death for it. "Is that so?"

"Yes, it is. Please come and have a look." She seemed slightly crestfallen at his lack of interest, but he didn't care.

"I'm not walking to some ruin in the middle of nowhere." It would have been different if they had invented chariots, but although he had repeatedly explained the principles to them, they didn't get it. His science advisor had told him, in his usual, infuriatingly calm manner, that they had to invent the wheel first. Ramesses' hasty diagram of a wheel was then dismissed as not being comprehensive enough. To be honest, their lack of horses was also a problem, but Ramesses already had a solution for that. Peasants could do the pulling.

"They have moved their find into the courtyard in front of your palace."

Ramesses considered this. It was unlikely that they had found anything worth his time. For a start, his warriors were imbeciles who wouldn't recognise something interesting if it bit them in the ass. Also, as hopeless as his followers were, they were still the greatest civilization on Earth, thanks only to him. (Assuming of course that this was Earth. If it wasn't, they were the greatest civilization wherever they actually were.) Therefore it was impossible that they had found anything noteworthy.

On the other hand, he quite fancied a walk, even if it meant seeing the mud huts. He didn't quite get why they didn't succeed in dragging their find into his palace, which couldn't have been much further, but decided not to argue. Trying to get them to do anything right was like herding cats, except that cats were sacred while his followers were just stupid. "Alright then." Ramesses made a great show of standing up and stretching. "The hardships I must endure for my kingdom."

The foreign advisor was already rushing off, which annoyed him further. She should have voiced her admiration for his heroic efforts first. He followed at a more leisurely pace.

Still, he was quite pleased that she was already gone when he stepped on his magnificent blue cape and nearly fell. His heavy crown actually tumbled off his royal head, but fortunately it wasn't dented. Perhaps he should have given his real height when he had his clothes made. Ramesses ignored that treacherous thought. The tailors should have known what he meant.

When he reached the courtyard, he saw his warriors milling around the edge of the square, being useless as usual.

Having to see his subjects always annoyed him, so he wanted to get this done with as quickly as possible. "So where is it?"

The foreign advisor pointed at a pile of metal in the centre of the square. Ramesses hadn't seen it at first as two priests were standing over it, arguing. He didn't understand why they bothered when they could just ask for his opinion. He was a living god after all. Then again, did he really want them to waste his time with their boring theological problems?

Ramesses walked up to the pile of scrap, swatting the priest who wasn't quick enough to move aside with his ceremonial staff.

At first glance it looked like nothing more than junk, albeit valuable scrap that could be melted down to forge better weapons. He hadn't intended to give it more than that, but something stopped him from turning around and heading right back into the palace while berating his followers for their stupidity.

The metal was covered in grime and had been battered by the elements and the inept transportation. Ramesses couldn't tell if it was supposed to be a single object or lots of smaller artefacts thrown together, never mind what its purpose was. All the same, he could see that the craftsmanship was incredible. It far surpassed what his current kingdom could achieve. Admittedly, that wasn't much. They might have been the height of civilization but the only other humans they had encountered were barbarians, who even more uncivilized than his lot. But even the most skilled smiths of his past reign couldn't have created this. Whoever crafted this had to be far more advanced than any mortal kingdom he had ever known.

Perhaps the gods themselves had made this and left it as a gift for the faithful. He'd built a monument in their honour, so it was only right that they should express their gratitude. It would have been far more convenient if they had left it at the city gates though. And it would have been more polite if they had cleaned it first.

If this had not been made by the gods, then by men like them. But why would they have abandoned this?

He rubbed some of the dirt off the artefact. It gave a soft click. Suddenly, an image appeared, hovering above it. Ramesses flinched. Hoping none of his followers had noticed, he edged closer again to examine the phantasm. A glorious city, basking in the evening sun. It looked incredibly real, except for the fact that it was so very small. He cautiously reached out to touch it, despite fearing it might burn him, but his hand went right through and it was no hotter than the surrounding air.

Then the city vanished. Instead, a lone man was walking across a desert, carrying a black flag. He rammed the pole into the dry ground. Lightning struck the tiny figure, and then the whole world was on fire.

A board game came into view. Perhaps it was something like Senet or Mehen, but the board and the pieces looked strange. Between turns, more images appeared. People running, a flaming javelin ripping into a building, which seemed to be made of _glass_. That was impossible, but he had no time to dwell on it as new terrifying wonders appeared. A steel bird spiralling to earth, smoke billowing. Then a metal box, which moved on its own. It looked invincible, but was hit by something and ripped to pieces. A city was blown away in a storm of fire. Finally, a statue being torn down. Destruction as a game was nothing new to Ramesses, but how could devastation on this scale be possible?

Ramesses stared at the ghostly images. His heart was hammering away and he was gasping for breath. His ceremonial staff had slipped out of his grasp, but he was too fixated to care.

The image changed again. There was no more fire, no more destruction, only a strange white ship sailing through the night sky. And then he was watching a man gazing both at his own reflection and at many strange new worlds.

Without warning the images vanished, leaving Ramesses staring at the mud huts beyond the square. He clutched his chest and took a couple of deep breaths. After steadying himself a little, he turned to the warriors. "You found this in a ruin?"

They looked at each other. After an awkward silence, one of them said, "I'd say so. Looked like it used to be a building anyway. It was made out of a weird kind of stone, but there were walls and stuff..."

"The roof had caved in. Rubble everywhere. Don't think anyone's lived there for a really long time," another said.

"But it must have looked awesome at the time. It's a real pity most of the stuff there was too heavy to carry back," a third chimed in.

Ramesses didn't answer. Why would such a thing be left behind? Had they perhaps abandoned the whole world, choosing to join the gods instead? Perhaps they were cruising the skies in solar chariots, enjoying the pleasures of godhood. He wished he could, but being the son of Re and a god himself didn't seem to be enough for that. They might have abandoned it because they thought it was too primitive for words, just like he wouldn't be seen dead in a mud hut, although if those idiots didn't hurry up with his burial tomb, he feared that he might be.

More unnervingly, might they be watching his kingdom? Ramesses bit his lip. It was clear to him that if they showed up and turned out to be hostile, his army would be no help. He had no idea why they dared call themselves soldiers. In his day, he had faced a Hittite army with no help but his pet lion and won. Admittedly an allied army had shown up to finish them off, but he'd done the important part. Of course it was unfair to compare anyone to himself, Ramesses the Great, but even so.

Although he wasn't about to doubt his genius, he knew that there was nothing he could do if that was the case. Well, he could instruct his scribes to write about his glorious victory while Thebes burned, but if they got killed mid-hieroglyph...

Then an even more chilling thought struck him. What if they were simply gone, leaving nothing but fragments and ruins? Aside from the fact that they had created this amalgam of metal, he knew nothing about them. If they had vanished, the world had just forgotten them.

In itself, that wasn't worrying. No matter how magnificent their achievements may have been, Ramesses didn't care about them.

But if such a civilization could fade into obscurity, what about his kingdom? Confrontations with reality were painful, but compared to them, his realm wasn't much more than a barbarian encampment. If there was one thing he feared more than having his heart eaten by the Devourer, it was his name fading into oblivion.

Trembling, Ramesses clenched his fist. He would not allow that fate to befall him. He would build a civilization that would stand the test of time, one that would not be forgotten as long as there was one person alive to remember it. If at all possible, that person ought to be him.

But before he could announce that vow to his assembled subjects, the foreign advisor asked, "What do you suggest we do with it?"

Ramesses stroked his royal beard, so that everyone knew he was deep in thought. After a couple of moments, he had a brilliant idea. Actually, he had already had a very similar one the last time he reigned, but it was so good it would be a shame not to reuse it. "It's an amazing work of art. That's absolutely obvious, as I made it. We ought to leave this masterful sculpture here, on the main square, so that all my subjects can appreciate my artistic genius. One of you should chisel that onto a stone and put it next to it so nobody gets confused." It was also better to look at than mud huts, but he didn't say that.

A few of the warriors were sniggering, but immediately stopped when he scowled at them. With that business settled, Ramesses turned tail and headed back into his palace, only having to return to the square when he realised that he'd dropped his ceremonial staff. Being a Pharaoh was such hard and thankless work.

THE END


End file.
